No More Deserts
by Dragonstar Writes
Summary: "So," he gulped, embarrassed, "Are you a boy, or a girl?" They cocked their head to the side. "I fail to see how that helps with this interrogation," they said, knowing that the question was one that the interrogator was uncomfortable with. Full summary inside!
1. A Different Sky

**_Fandom: _**_Fullmetal Alchemist_

**_Summary:_**_ "So," he gulped, embarrassed, "Are you a boy, or a girl?" They cocked their head to the side. "I fail to see how that helps with this interrogation," they said, knowing that the question was one that the interrogator was uncomfortable with. A person of unknown origin, unknown to even themselves, is found in an alley in Central. They know things that the military keeps on a need-to-know basis, and things that haven't even happened yet. But it's hard to silence a person like this when the man in charge is a little too soft and the only person who has an inkling of their language has a small vendetta against the guy. _

**_Warnings: _**_None_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: <strong>A Different Sky**  
><strong>

_Raining… It's raining…_

Every muscle in my body was throbbing and sore. I felt cold, colder than I should have. It could get pretty cold during the winter, but I could catch my death in this temperature! I really didn't want to move, though. Everything still hurt.

_Wait. It's raining… on me?_

I was still really sluggish, but I slowly opened my eye and squinted at the unexpected sight of a cloudy sky. I struggled to sit up—my muscles weren't exactly in the best condition for anything right now—and I looked around. I was in an alleyway next to a dumpster, a few newspapers and other papers scattered around. Little puddles were forming in the cracks and dips of the brick floor. Someone had conveniently left something that looked like a wallet on the other side of the alley, and that torn umbrella was looking really attractive, despite having bits of garbage all over it. I could feel what I thought was a small pouch or satchel thing on my person and I was wearing a severely over sized shirt that could've passed for a dress.

_Ugh, I feel like I've been dragged across the floor and beaten to death. _I leaned against the wall and panted heavily. There was a bit of red mixed in with the water-I assumed it was blood. Whose blood was a question I wasn't ready to answer. I couldn't even begin to wonder where I was or how I had gotten there. My vision was still blurry, and I could still see the darkness creeping at its edges.

I was able to haul myself up to something that resembled standing, and got to work on where I was, now that the initial pain of waking up was being swept away by the adrenaline of panic. I couldn't remember what I was doing before all of this. Hell, I could barely remember who I was. What little snippets I could remember simply told me that I had no reason to be in an alley, let alone a city. I looked down to see the dark tan of my skin, and how pale my tangled hair was in comparison

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. I knew that I had to find my way back home—If I even had one—and that I had to find out where I was. But, I first had to find descent shelter. _And some food, _I soon realized. As the pain finally receded to bearable levels, I trudged along the wall to where it ended and looked around the street for clues as to my apparent abduction from my home.

There was a line of closed shops along the street as well as some outdated streetlights. There were few people that were outside, either looking for some relief from the rain or having an umbrella already. The way they dressed was weird too, and the buildings also looked like an older fashioned sort, but didn't have any of the wear and tear that older buildings usually had.

My little observations and musings were cut short when I heard a rumble, and the buildings opposite me seemed to have spontaneously combusted. Startled, I immediately dropped to the ground and held my head under my hands and arms with a whimper that I couldn't hear, most likely from sound of the explosion. I stayed like that for a bit, listening to crackling and yells from what sounded like some kids and an adult. When I looked up, I don't know what I expected to see.

There was a blond haired kid on the floor that was staring up at a dark skinned man, who was standing threateningly over him. Behind them was a huge suit of armor that was looking towards them. Continuing to observe, I noticed with panic that the boy had his arm cut off. There were shards of metal littering the ground, and some sort of metal covering over his lost limb, and the man in the armor was also seemingly missing an arm. _But, _I thought,_ that might just be because of the angle I'm looking at._

_Wait, this seems familiar somehow._ Before I could pay much more attention to the sudden feeling of nostalgia, a shot rang out. Looked over to the origin of the sound and saw a dark-haired man holding a gun to the air. The feeling of nostalgia returned full force and I soon found it hard to concentrate on what he was saying as I struggled to remember where I had seen this before. I was so focused that I missed what he had said and saw that the threatening man was now charging at the other. I snorted mentally, thinking that he was going to be overwhelmed by the huge police force that had appeared. But the dark-haired man was walking up to the other who clearly had the intent to physically harm him, and he was putting on a simple pair of white gloves with something red on the side—without my glasses, I couldn't see clearly what was there.

I wasn't sure what the man was expecting, but he seemed surprised that when he snapped his fingers nothing happened. Thankfully, the blond woman behind him had more sense than he did, and tripped him before the scarred man could do any harm, and began to shoot. They spoke again, and then I realized that I didn't understand a word they said. _But that might be because of all the background noise, _I thought.

Curious of how the familiar boy was doing and whoever was in the suit of armor, I shakily stood up and started to make my way to them. But before I could take a single step onto the street, some of the men had already gone to check on them. One of them noticed me and ran up to me. I instinctively backed away once I saw how close he was and how he looked so serious. He slowed down and said what sounded like a threat to me. I gave him a frightened but confused look and he said something else with a little less hostility. I looked at him with the horrifying realization that I spoke none of the language here. Whatever they spoke sounded like a mix of Japanese and German, and I spoke none of it.

I tried to tell him that I couldn't understand him, that I didn't speak the language, but as soon as I tried to make any sound, nothing came out. I frowned at myself and tried to speak again, but it felt like something was lodged in my throat and a painful rasping sound came out. I grabbed at my throat as it started to burn with the attempts at speech, and darkness was once again creeping and the farthest edges of my vision. I felt like I couldn't get enough air, and I started to cough up something.

Noticing my panic and my lack of response to whatever he asked me, he lowered his voice and started to speak slowly and softly. I struggled to calm down while the man spoke in soothing tones and reached out for my hand. I drew it back and started to take trembling steps backward. He held his hands up in a non-threatening gesture and continued to speak slowly. I managed to get a hold of myself and nodded to the man to say that I was fine.

Satisfied, he held out his hand and slowly enunciated his words with a gentle smile. With his other hand, he pointed to himself and said, "Jean Havoc." I gave him a small nod, hopefully showing that I understood him, and took his hand, forming the name with my soundless lips. I pointed to myself and regretfully shook my head, trying to tell him that I didn't know my name. He frowned, but I was sure that I was able to get the message across.

He led me out of the ally, and I saw that the fight was now over. The boy from earlier was arguing with whomever was inside the suit of armor, and a fairly heated argument if the tone of their voices was to be judged. I decided to look away; they had nothing to do with me, so why should I pay attention? I just needed to get back home, if I even had one.

Holding me by the shoulders, the man led me to another uniformed man with dark hair. _Asian,_ was my immediate thought, before I started to question what Asian was. It felt like something one would use to describe appearance, but what kind of appearance? What about this man made me think Asian, while the rest of the people here didn't trigger that response?

_Wait,_ I thought._ Now that I think about it, when I see the other people here, I think of the word white. _I frowned to myself._ But what does a color have to do with these people? No, not the color, just the word. But why?_ I slowly reached my hand to grab and my head, hair the color of their skin falling before my eyes, providing a sort of shield from the outside world._ This headache isn't helping any either. Which god takes care of headaches again?_

More and more snippets of information continued to make themselves available to me, causing the pounding in my head to increase to almost unbearable levels. But before I could even attempt to make sense of it all, the voice of the man that I had categorized as Asian brought my attention back to the real world. He seemed to have been giving some sort of direction to the man that led me here, and then walked off to some other direction, leaving us alone and one of us without a clue as to what was going on.

The blond man that I now noticed to smell faintly like cigarettes gave me his hand again and led me to a car. I tried to stop, fearing what would happen if they took me away. Were they going to send me to jail? Was I going to be sent to an orphanage? Were they going to sell me into slavery due to my lack of voice and understanding of the language? The car kept getting closer and the man was saying something to me now, once again trying to calm me down. I was tired, wounded, and weak from a hunger that told me that I hadn't eaten in days, so I gave up and let him stuff me in the back seat of the car.

As he started the ignition, I tiredly observed that the car was of a style that I was certain was from a few decades ago, and wondered why I thought that. Everyone had this car, so wasn't this the modern style of cars? Something in my brain told me that this car was old despite looking fairly new.

The man said something else, and I was sure that he knew that I couldn't understand him, so I assumed that he was talking to himself. My eyes closed of their own will, and I slept.

* * *

><p>The small teen hadn't woken up in over 16 hours, and I was beginning to worry.<p>

When I saw a person kneeling on the floor and staring at Scar and the Elric brothers, my first thought was that we needed a way for them to keep quiet about the whole thing. A poverty-stricken kid that seemed to be a victim of the racism in Central would probably be kept quiet by a little bit of bribing and intimidation. Probably noticed the automail and that he was the Fullmetal Alchemist, not to mention the hollow suit of armor so we would need a sworn promise, and maybe a little blackmail would be helpful.

My next thought was as follows:

_Is that a boy or a girl?_

In my defense, they had no noticeable feminine development, but they weren't exactly the perfect picture of testosterone, either.

When they got up, I thought they were going to run away, so I started to walk briskly towards them in hopes of catching them before she got away, but then they started to slightly limp towards the brothers with what seemed to be morbid curiosity. They noticed me as soon as I took a step toward them, but didn't make a move to run away, though they definitely flinched once I got really close to them.

With the distance between us now decreased, I was able to see how skinny they were, despite that amount of muscle they had on themselves. Their skin was like that of an Ishbalan, if only one or two shades lighter. There were small scratches all over their body and even though they were bleeding at a sluggish pace they probably still needed some looking at. Their hair was long and tangled, filled with what looked like sand, and covered most of their face, but I was still able to see the dark gold that was in their eyes. I would've said that they were just like the Elric kid's, but were a lot darker than his.

"I trust you know what I'm here for, with what you've seen of the Elric brothers' situation," I said with a hit of hostility in my voice. Best to start with intimidation and use bribery if it's needed at all. They looked up at me with a shocked look in their face and I noticed that they looked a little older than I gave them credit for, but that could've been chalked up to the obvious starved state. I waited for some sort of response or spark of understanding, but they just kept on staring with blank, hollow eyes. I then realized that they didn't understand what I said._ How the hell do they not understand Amestrian? They're in Central, for Pete's sake!_

They opened their mouth to say something, but no sound came out. They frowned and tried to speak again, but all that came out was a scratchy sound that sounded really painful. They grabbed their mouth and made a hacking sound with the look of shock across their face. They started to take fast and shallow breathes and started to look a bit pale. I immediately started to try and calm them down, depending entirely on how my voice sounded and not so much on what I was saying. "Hey, Hey don't pass out on me now," I said slowly. "Look, I'm sorry I scared you when I came, okay? I just need you to breathe deeply and slowly, okay? Then maybe I can get you some food or something."

Their breathing started to even out a little, so I kept on talking. "Yeah, that's good. Look, I'll just take you to the Colonel, okay? I mean, I can't just leave you here, right? Someone's bound to have some room for an extra person, even if it's only for a few days. And Ed's bound to know what language you speak." The kid had showed off his amazing knowledge of languages during a previous case where someone had written notes in Xingese or something. He didn't even notice that they were in a different language until everyone, including his brother, was staring at him. "With him around, we can probably find out what you're doing here, and hopefully convince you to keep quiet about what you saw."

The rest of what happened was pretty routine. I brought them to the Colonel and had him instruct me on what to do. Keep the kid under supervision and get a doctor to them. "And don't tell Fullmetal and his brother about this. They've got enough on their plate for now."

There were some problems when I was leading them to the car—Probably the standard 'don't take candy from strangers' sort of thing was going through their head—but they weren't exactly in condition to fight a guy in the military, even if it's majority desk work that I do.

They fell asleep on the car ride to the hospital and I had them checked out while they were still asleep. I got a lot of weird looks from people, but it turned out alright in the end, though they were covered in bandages. They kinda looked like a mummy, but there wasn't enough to actually call them that, even if they didn't understand what I said.

After all of the hospital junk, I took them home to keep an eye on them. I could only house the kid for so long though, and they're probably going to have a panic attack when they find themselves in an unfamiliar place. The doctor said that the loss of voice was done through a lot of screaming that had worn out the vocal cords, but that they would be alright in a few days. So screaming wasn't something that should be done the moment they wake up. Soup was definitely something I would feed them.

I sighed and looked outside, a little frustrated that they hadn't woken up yet. I had to go to base soon to check in and report on the kid, but I couldn't just leave them. I could probably take them to work with me, but I could only imagine the gossip that would spring up if I was seen walking around with a sleeping teen that had suffered quite a bit of abuse.

I sighed again and walked over to my phone that was next to the satchel that I had found on the kid. I went through it a few hours before, but all I found were a lot of cords and techie looking things that I decided not to mess with. Technology just wasn't my forte, and I didn't want to accidentally explode something.

Before I could dial Colonel Mustang's office, there was a knocking sound on my door. I put the phone back down and walked over to the door, making sure that the kid of questionable gender was still sleeping. I opened the door expecting to see the morning paper or a salesperson, not Colonel Mustang looking as though he always visits his subordinates in the morning.

"Second Lieutenant Havoc, if you could me into your home..." Mustang raised an eyebrow.

I jumped up. "Y-yes sir! Though, if you don't mind me asking," I slipped into more casual conversation as we walked into my apartment, "Why exactly are you here? I mean, I don't mind visits, but I thought that you could wait to see me at HQ."

"I feel that this situation needs to be handled with a little more delicacy than the standard procedure would allow," he sat down on the couch opposite to the one that the teen was sleeping in. "Though, there really is no standard procedure for this kind of situation. I take it that they've been asleep for a while now?"

"So you don't know either, huh?" I mumbled to myself. "I-I mean, uh," He raised an eyebrow at me, "Yeah, they've been sleeping since that car ride. What do you plan to do when they wake up?"

"Well, for starters, we need some form of communication, which I'm sure we can achieve with Fullmetal." He sighed and leaned back. "Unfortunately, he's back in Resembool for repairs, so we'll have to leave that on the backburner for now."

Something gleamed in his eyes as he sent a stern look at the nameless kid. "However, we do need a way to keep them somewhat _contained_ for the next week or so. And I do have a small idea that is going have to do."

* * *

><p><em>Hurray for the first fanfic in three years!<em>

_Ugh, this idea has been bothering me for the past month, so I set out on a small quest to find a fic just like what I had in mind. But, no one wrote it, and after days of torment, I decided to try writing again. Of course, if anyone still remembers my first attempt, I'm so sorry for your troubles._

_This fic is going to follow the events in the manga and in Brotherhood. I'm going to try to get Ed and Al to play big parts in this story—__which was created on pure impulse—but I'm not even sure what's going to happen myself. But for those of you that are hoping that the OC will have a romantic relationship with anyone, I'm sorry to disappoint. If there are any relationships portrayed, they will be canon and will not be put into focus._

_Don't expect regular updates from me. Almost everything I do is on impulse, and this fanfic is definitely one of those impulses. I might update every other day for two weeks and then you might not hear from me for months. Though I will make my best effort to not go on a break longer than three months without stating that I'm on hiatus._

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. New Habits

**_Fandom: _**_Fullmetal Alchemist_

**_Summary:_**_ "So," he gulped, embarrassed, "Are you a boy, or a girl?" They cocked their head to the side. "I fail to see how that helps with this interrogation," they said, knowing that the question was one that the interrogator was uncomfortable with. A person of unknown origin, unknown to even themselves, is found in an alley in Central. They know things that the military keeps on a need-to-know basis, and things that haven't even happened yet. But it's hard to silence a person like this when the man in charge is a little too soft and the only person who has an inkling of their language has a small vendetta against the guy. _

**_Warnings: _**_None_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: <strong>New Habits

One of my memories held a lot of books. I loved to read about history, and the way everyone's story started and ended. I liked to know things about a countries birth and death, and everything in between. I liked hearing about how an idiot killed his leader, and that one guy that was in power for less than an hour.

So when I was moved to a new place where they gave me books to try and learn their language, I was pretty fucking mad.

There were whole stacks of books that I couldn't even try to read. Books that taunted me with whatever knowledge they had within them, and teasing me with the fact that I couldn't get to those answers even if I wanted to. Books that, no matter how I turned them or how many I went through, were in the same. Damn. Language!

I groaned and fell to the wooden floorboards below me. _What kind of torture is this,_ I thought in pain. The dark-haired Asian man from before, who had called himself Mustang (what a weird name), took me away from Jean and brought me to a man who introduced himself as 'Falman' (again, what a weird name). He helped me learn a few words, like 'book," "person," and "walk," and even taught me how to make things plural, but he left a while ago to do… something. He said something, so it's not like I didn't know that he was gonna do something, but I didn't have a back-up plan for boredom! _And those guards outside don't exactly look friendly._

I picked myself off the floor and ambled to the window. The old-but-new buildings that surrounded wherever I was now were still a mystery to me. There weren't many cars that were on the street, and most of the people walked rather than drive. Everyone was dressed in an old-time way. Like those old black-and-white pictures that I once saw in a history book.

_Day 3 of me not knowing who or where I am, _I sighed heavily. Fragments of memories were beginning to unlock themselves to me, but my name was still unknown, along with a few facts about myself and the world. The memories that I had when I woke up were a little more that slightly outdated, considering that they only vaguely described the first fourth of my life. Memories of hot sand and cold nights in a crumbling sandstone house were a thing of a long gone past-being adopted by a rich American did have its perks, even if they only did it for publicity. I also remembered some of the schooling that I had in the States, like some really basic geography of the world. With that info, I figured that I was somewhere in Europe, going by the light skin of the people here.

Now that I had some idea of where I was, my small panic attack in front of Jean seemed a little silly. _Nice first impression, idiot._

Speaking of memories, I had yet to receive any that told me what happened to have landed me here. I kicked the wall in my ire. Why couldn't I remember anything useful?_ It's been three days! I can't communicate with anyone very well, and the only thing I can really say is 'yes' and 'no'! _I growled to myself and rubbed my head violently. _C'mon! Work! What good are you if you can't remember anything?! Stupid brain!_

_And then there was the issue with why these people are familiar to me_. I kicked the wall again. When I got to this place, if I even so much as looked at certain people, my head would throb and little fragments would start to pour through. That had stopped happening the day before, but the familiarity was still there. I could predict reactions some people would have to certain things, and I had a pretty good grasp on their personality. I knew their names fit when they told me-even if they were strange-and I knew that the boy from before was important somehow. I knew that the scarred man had escaped, and I knew that the boy and his friend would return in a few days. I thought that maybe they were from before my memory wipe, but if I did know them, where did the other memories come from? Granted, I was missing at least two years of my life, but even two years couldn't explain why I even knew any large groups of foreigners. The thought of having familiar people that I couldn't speak to and didn't know me frustrated me to no end.

I soon gave up with that, seeing as kicking a wall and massing up my already tangled hair wasn't doing anything but making more work for me later. That reminded me of the hilarious attempt that Falman had made at conquering the thing. 'Course he gave up with a yell and grumbled to himself as he left the room I was staying in. I don't think I ever brushed my hair before, leaving it to hang down to my waist. I remember being very happy at the thought of making someone else's life just a little more chaotic.

_Wait! Chaotic! _I jumped up with glee. "I loved making other people's life hell!" I said. "That's pretty rude of me, but hey, to each their own way," I grinned maliciously to myself. _And ruining people's lives is mine, apparently._

A whole new set of memories showed themselves to me, revealing nights spent out on the streets, playing pranks on people that I felt deserved it. I would rig traps that would throw rocks at the kids that liked to throw rocks at that one cat. That one police officer that abused his power got more than a few pies launched at him when he stepped out of his car to get some food. There was that one guy that mistook me for an easy target and started waving his gun around like it made him the coolest kid on the block. I got him back with a well-placed trap that was set to make a sound like a gunshot. He ended up sleeping in a jail cell that night.

"Time to test this new love of sneaking out," I said to myself as I made plans to escape that afternoon.

**…**

**"Where'd they go now?!"**

**"I don't know! I thought I had them, but it turned out to be an old lady!"**

**"What the hell?! They look almost exactly like an Ishvalan! You would think that would make them easy to find!"**

**"Oh man, Mustang's gonna kill us!"**

**"Calm down! Just, we need to spread out! If we all go in different directions from here, we'll have more of a chance at finding them!"**

**"Right!"**

I quietly giggled at the men that I was sure were looking for me. This game of mine was probably the first bit of fun that I'd had since I'd gotten to this time-lost place. Though they were panicking-and I did feel a little bad-I was assured in my ability to care for myself for at least a few hours, if that's what they were worried about. And my ability to sneak around a few irritated officials.

I turned around to slip into the ally I was hiding in, away from the bickering foreigners (well, I guess I was the foreigner here) and the stack of crates that I was hiding behind. I was free to do what I wanted, when I wanted. I was definitely going to get caught eventually, but I wanted to have a little fun before then.

**…**

After a half an hour of walking, I saw the classic 'scum with no morals beating up an animal,' group that was present in every self-respecting city. They were a bunch of older teens that were surrounding a small furry mass that I was sure was a small dog, each laughing cruelly to the other and making threatening movements to the puppy, like they were going to rush in and kick it, only to turn away at the last minute. They were in a lose ring around the poor thing and would occasionally kick a stone at the dog's general direction.

I had had enough of just looking at the jerks, and got ready to take action. I didn't have any time to rig anything up, so I made do with the rubber bands that I stole from Falman's place and made a make-shift slingshot. It was really shabby and sure to break, so I just had to make sure I didn't miss. I ran to the low wall that separated me from them and made sure to get to the edge unnoticed.

By the time that I got to the edge, the jerks were already getting closer to the poor animal, its' black and white fur puffed up in fear. I lined up a shot a one of the guys' heads, a scruffy brunet who looked a little too old to learn how cruel he was.

He doubled over and held his head once I finally shot with the little piece of brick that I used. I stood and shouted, "Why are you picking on a puppy? What'd he do to you, ya jerks!" and I took off running, not looking back at the furious faces that would surely be there. I heard a piece of wood collide with the wall opposite us and angry yells. _Not a good plan! Not even a plan!_

I didn't know where I was so I couldn't run to the officers for help. I couldn't just turn a corner and hide, they were too close to me. I just kept pounding my feet on the floor, hoping beyond hope that I'd get out of it somehow.

The odds really weren't in my favor. These teenagers were gaining up on me fast with their height advantage they had over me. They had the home field advantage and were probably more violent than I could be with them. The only thing I could do was give them a bit of jail time for disturbing the peace. I was sure that was a law here.

"I'm only twelve years old," I said under my breath. I kept frantically turning at random intervals, hoping to shake them off. I jumped over a low wall and knocked over a few boxes, trying to slow them down. I forgot to account the height difference though, so I ended up being closer to them than before.

_Shit, shit, shit! _I felt my heart trying to pump enough oxygen to my muscles and my lungs hard at work. _I could probably take on one of them alone, but not all four at the same time! _If I turned or slowed down at all, they would catch up to me. All I could do was keep running, and take a few glances backwards to see how much time I had left before the beating I was gonna get.

Still not looking where I was going, I bumped into something. I fell down backwards, and knew that even if I got up again, I wouldn't be able to outrun the teens now. I looked up to see what I had bumped into, to see what I could've avoided if I had been looking where I was going. I didn't expect to see the black-haired man. "M-Mustang!" I squeaked.

He was scowling down at me, his lips pressed into a thin line and arms crossed. I then remembered the guys that were chasing me, and decided to try and act my age. I got up and ran behind Mustang, holding onto his clothes and trying to give off helpless vibes and staring at the guy that were chasing me. They slowed down and paled a bit when they saw him.

"Gör!" Mustang yelled down. I flinched a bit, hearing the name that the man had given me. I was sure that it wasn't actually a name, probably something rude-I did recognize when I was being offended. I remembered the first time he gave me the name, he was getting really frustrated with my lack of motivation for anything. Someone had to restrain him from throttling me, and that's when he started calling me 'Gör.' I guess the name would work until I remembered my own.

Back to the present, Mustang began coolly talking to the teenaged boys. They stood with their hands in their pockets and scowls on their face, though some of their eyes were a little too wide and one of them stood with a slight tremor. I wasn't sure what they were scared of, though. They were delinquents, so the must've had run-ins with the law before, right?

After a few more exchanges, they nodded their heads stiffly and walked back to where we came from. I could only hope that they wouldn't try to hurt the dog again, and that the dog was smart enough to see a chance of escape.

I sighed in relief and detached myself from Mustang, only to have him whirl on me and start shouting as soon as the assholes were out of sight. I couldn't understand him still, but I'd be an idiot to interrupt him now. He looked like he was ready to throttle me. This whole thing was definitely his fault though. Who knows how, but it was.

He finally stopped ranting at me and grabbed my arm, pulling me with him. I briefly wondered if trying to get away would count as resisting arrest, assuming that was a law in this place and that these people really were officers.

There was a car in front of where we came out of, and Mustang pulled me in while Hawkeye sat at the wheel. I could feel the angry mood in the air and I crossed my arms defiantly. Why should I do anything these people tell me? _What are they holding me for, anyway? I didn't do anything wrong!_ I made a face._ Yet, anyways._

The stifling mood remained for the rest of the car ride, giving me some time to observe the city without having to watch my back for officers. The 20th century feel of the city was only as charming as the hygiene here, which is to say, not at all. Growing up with both the poor and the rich, I could see that this place wasn't that bad off, despite the noticeable lack of anything modern. Sometimes I felt like I had gone back in time to see a bluer sky and nicer people, generally speaking. I was concerned about that lack of modern technology though. The lamps all had the lightbulbs that used more energy than the curvy ones that I could remember. The cars all looked almost identical, and looked like that one old car model that my dad had brought home one day. My first thought was that they were all Amish, but that would mean that they used no electricity at all. There was probably a word for people like this. Maybe there was a dictionary in that bag that was on me before.

_Wait, where is it? _I smacked my forehead and groaned at my stupidity, earning me a weird look from Mustang. Why did I remember just now!? _It's probably still in that place that I woke up before!_

I quickly looked at Mustang, and I frowned. Was it worth the trouble of trying to explain what I just remembered? He was a grouchy person with no sense of fun, and if we went searching together he might just confiscate the thing like the no-respect-for-anyone-younger-than-20 jerk I was sure he was. He might've seen something though; maybe he could take me to Jean. He found me there-or confronted me, I guess-so maybe he had the bag. _Charades it is, then,_ I thought.

* * *

><p>When the brat hit their forehead, I was almost concerned for them. They stayed in that position for a while, and I was going to ask if something was wrong before their attention snapped towards me. They studied me for a bit, seeming to get more disheartened the longer they stared at me. Then they finally sighed and leaned back, and I could feel a vein popping out of my forehead.<p>

"Well I'm sorry for not being what you wanted!" I felt like I had just been insulted. "Try as I might, I can't win everyone over!"

They looked at me curiously, and decided to brush off my outburst in favor of… pointing? "You. Me."

"Me?" they nodded. _What…?_

"Wake-uh, no, no. Umm, walk? Walk-ing," They made a face.

"Walking? You want to go walking somewhere?" They gave a confused yes. _Wait, they said me too._ "You want to go walking with me?"

"Uh, Jean Ha-voc,"

"Wait, walking with Havoc?" _That can't be right._ If I remembered correctly, they didn't exactly get along very well after the only useful words he taught were about his addiction and the military. Of course, I reprimanded him and sent them to Falman, but they obviously weren't happy with that either. It's not like they remembered the words, anyway.

"You. Me. Walking. Jean Havoc." _Take me to Jean Havoc, _I realized, then frowned. Going back there made no sense. Though if they truly had amnesia as the doctor had suggested, I hoped that it didn't mean that this was some sort of imprinting. That would pose a problem.

"You want me to take you to Havoc?" a confused nod. I guess I really couldn't expect more than that. I couldn't even ask them why they wanted to go. I sighed. _It's not like I have anything better to do, besides that paperwork that Scar left me._

"Hawkeye, we have a change of plans," I said. "Drive over to Havoc's place. It seems that our friend has some business to take care of."

"Yes, sir," She said, and promptly changed course.

_This better be good, brat. _

**…**

Once we got there, the kid didn't even wait for the car to stop before they threw open the door and ran to Havoc's own. They pounded and shouted his name, and the door finally opened, but they didn't register that until Havoc started to clutch his stomach in pain.

"Man, you pack quite a punch," He ground out, and the kid started to laugh at him before letting themselves in.

"Why'd you bring them back, Colonel?" he said once I walked up to him. "I thought they were going to stay at Falman's for now? Learn some Amestrian?"

"Well they didn't stop to see that you were okay, so it's safe to assume that they left something of importance here." I heard something shatter.

"What's that kid doing to my house?!" He yelled and ran back into his house. I followed at a more leisurely pace, and once I got in, I could see that whatever they were looking for, they wanted it quiet badly. Everything was knocked slightly askew, and there was the plate on the floor that I heard earlier. They looked sheepishly at the shattered ceramic and then continued to go looking through the cabinets.

"WAIT! Wait, kid! Is this what you wanted?" Havoc held up a small satchel and the kid stopped ruining his living space. They immediately got off of the counter and spirited at Havoc, knocking him over. They repeated a phrase, which I suppose meant 'thank you'. Then they ran straight out the door, leaving us in the dust.

"My kitchen…" he sniveled and he tried to put the shattered plate back together.

"Quit your moping, Havoc," I said. "I'm sure it's not that bad." I checked the time. _6:35 _"I expect you ready to work tomorrow. We still need to figure out where Scar took off and if he's still a large enough threat to have bodyguards on State Alchemists." I said lightly and I walked back to the car, satisfied that someone else was as miserable as me.

"How long until Ed gets back?" I heard from behind me.

I took a glance back at Havoc, who was trying to put the plate back together, and turned again. "Not soon enough."

* * *

><p><em>Oh look. I updated.<em>

_I apologize for any mistakes, but it's late and I don't feel like dealing with it. _

_I don't know what else to say... Eh._

_Goodbye!_


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